“What is it, naco?” Lopen asked.

Rua pointed at the water nearby, and Lopen saw a shape in the depths—or at least a dark shadow. Size was difficult to judge because he didn’t know how deep the thing was, but Rua was insistent. It was one of them. The things that had feasted on Stormlight, draining the Windrunners who had tried to investigate the storm before.

“It’s swimming?” Lopen asked, wiping rainwater from his eyes. “How can you be certain that’s one of them, naco?”

Rua simply was. And Lopen trusted him. He figured, sure, Rua would know about this sort of thing, same as Lopen knew about one-armed Herdazian jokes.

Leyten and the others hadn’t been able to report much about the things. They thought they were alive, not spren, but couldn’t be certain. The things had needed to get close to them though, so it probably couldn’t affect Lopen up here on the deck. Leyten said they’d hovered out in the clouds, indistinct, until he turned—then they’d come in from behind and drained him.

But were they the same type of creature as what Rysn kept as a pet? This one in the water seemed far larger. And more blobby somehow? Lopen would need to be careful when rescuing other members of the crew—if that thing drained him while he was in the drink, it would be catastrophic. He’d have to learn some dead Herdazian jokes to tell in the afterlife.

The sailing continued a long, terrible time. Lopen kept a vigilant watch through it all, and so was ready when Wvlan lost his footing. Lopen was on him before he was swept overboard, and pulled them both up against the rail and stuck them there, water cascading over them. He gave Wvlan a pat and a laugh, but when Lopen got to his knees to let the water stream off him, he noticed the dark shadow in the water right over the side of the ship. Keeping pace with them.

He wished he could get Cord out here to see if any strange spren were nearby. But he didn’t dare bring her into this storm. It would be—

The ship crashed through one final wave, and the wind abruptly stopped. Amazed, Lopen stumbled to his feet, then wiped his eyes again. Nearby sailors relaxed, loosening their grips on the ropes they’d been using to do . . . well, some sailor things with the stormsail.

“We made it!” Klisn said. “Storms, it’s like the centerbeat!” An awespren burst around him, and Lopen agreed with the sentiment. The rough waves and wind blew in a circular pattern right behind them. Dark clouds still blocked the sky, but the ship cut through choppy smaller waves, settling into a peaceful rest here—where even the waters seemed less dark, more sapphire than they had on the way in.

“Hey, Klisn?” Lopen said. “Would you go fetch Cord for me? I told her I’d get her as soon as it was safe, but I should go unstick your captain from the deck. I suspect she is liking it about as much as Punio did during the weeks I had a spren and he did not.”

“Sure thing, Lopen,” Klisn said, running off. He was a great fellow. Skilled partner at cards, plus he had an excellent sense of humor. And not only because he thought Lopen’s jokes were funny. He also thought Huio’s were terrible.

Lopen hastened up the stairs to the quarterdeck, then slowed as he stepped up beside the captain and helmsman. They were staring out across the ocean, toward something emerging from distant fog. An island.

It was surrounded by big stone spikes rising out of the ocean like a wall somehow built in the sea itself. But there was a huge gap where a dozen or more had either been removed or never placed. As the ship drifted farther, the waters stilled in an eerie way. The gap revealed a shallow island, small enough that Lopen could probably walk around the perimeter in an hour or so. Near the center, he spotted what he thought must be city walls, and maybe some structures near them.

“Well, hie me off to Damnation,” the captain muttered. “It’s actually real.”

12

“We’re here, Chiri-Chiri,” Rysn whispered as several of the sailors set her into her chair on the quarterdeck. “Look. I’ve brought you home.”

Chiri-Chiri nestled into her arms and barely moved. Rysn held her close as the captain and her brother conversed quietly nearby. Storms . . . the island looked so . . . surreal, with that too-still ocean, the distant fog, that strange rock palisade in the waters around it. The island itself was low and flat, except for that part near the center. Were those walls or a natural plateau?

The crew had gathered on deck, mingled with anticipationspren, like red streamers waving in an unfelt wind. Rysn wasn’t close enough to hear what they whispered to one another, and she almost tried to pull herself along the rail to get closer. Only a few days with her hovering chair, and already she relied on it.

Well, if this place turned out to be an enemy stronghold, they might have to leave quickly. She didn’t want to risk the floating chair, so she’d ordered it stowed and had the gemstones in her pocket. Her quarterdeck seat would have to do.

So she sat quietly, trying not to feel overwhelmed. They were here, finally. Rysn had brought them here. How would Vstim have proceeded? She didn’t know. She had learned his wisdom, but now she simply had to trust her own instincts.

That was more frightening to her than it had ever been before. “Captain,” she said, calling toward Drlwan. “What do you think? What news from the eel’s nest?”

The woman strode over. “I have three men with spyglasses searching for anything suspicious,” the captain said. “No signs of life, though there are definitely structures farther in. Not much wind here, oddly, but we can use oars to maneuver. These waters look treacherous, so we’ll want to go slowly. The depths around Aimia often have hidden hazards beneath the surface.

“Assuming all goes well, we could maneuver through that gap and get in close to the island.” She hesitated. “Rebsk, the lookouts report what appear to be gemhearts on the beach. Just lying there, discarded among the shells of fallen beasts.”

Curious. Rysn took a deep breath. “I authorize a slow approach. Warn me if anything new is spotted, and kindly have someone ask the Radiants and their party to come speak with me.” She could see Lopen, Huio, and Rushu chatting softly with Cord down on the main deck.

The captain ordered some of the sailors to man the oars, and soon they were gliding carefully toward the ring of tall rocks that surrounded the island. They reminded her of the obelisks the Deshi nomads set up at their various waystops.

Eerily, the only sounds were those of the oars on the water—a stark counterpoint to the raging winds and waters they’d left behind. As they moved—checking depth on both sides of the ship every minute or two—the Radiants and their friends stepped up onto the quarterdeck.

“What do you see, Cord?” Rysn asked in Veden.

“Luckspren,” she said, pointing overhead. “But they’re not approaching the island. There are dozens upon dozens flying around out here. Lopen showed me a shadow of something under the water that he thinks might be what drained Stormlight from the other Radiants, but I saw no spren. The shadow vanished quickly, but I think he must be toa, not liki. Um, I think you say physical, and not . . . mind? Of the mind world?”

“Curious,” Rysn replied, though she wasn’t entirely certain she understood.

“Hey,” Lopen said. “You speak . . . um . . . is that . . .”